


Hands

by ShepardCommander



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 22:09:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8914822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShepardCommander/pseuds/ShepardCommander
Summary: Vale openly gaped at the sight before her, of the Master Chief—the Master Chief—and the woman beside him, Kelly-087, doing what she could only assume was some sort of Spartan display of affection.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently I forgot to post this here forever ago ;A;

To say it had been a long, weird day would have been an understatement.

But this.

_This._

Vale openly gaped at the sight before her, of the Master Chief— _the_ Master Chief—and the woman beside him, Kelly-087, doing what she could only assume was some sort of Spartan display of affection. Thankfully, her helmet kept her her open gape from being _too_ open, but that she had not moved from where she had been standing at the Gateway when Blue Team had descended unharmed from their Cryptum prison was plain for all to see. Again, thankfully, no one was paying her much mind.

Locke was talking in hushed tones with Fred, about what Vale wasn't sure but prayed was something along the lines of a way to get them off of the organically artificial planet that was Genesis. Linda was on watch, her sniper raised, Tanaka standing opposite her with her DMR. And Buck was—

“Didn't your mother ever teach you it's rude to stare?”

Vale nearly jumped out of her skin, spinning around and bringing her SMG to bear without a second thought. Buck threw up his hands and took a step back.

“Whoa, easy there, now. It's me. Buck. Your teammate.”

“Damn it, Buck,” Vale snapped. Holstering her weapon, she let out a shaky breath. “Don't scare me like that.”

“Don't scare _me_ like that,” the former ODST countered. “ _I_ merely said hello. _You_ nearly filled me with bullets.”

Sighing, Vale ran a hand across the top of her crimson helmet. “I'm—I'm sorry, ok? Today has been...weird. And...and _that_...” She nodded her head back at the living legends behind her. “Are they... _allowed_ to do that?”

Buck's head moved ever so slightly, his shoulders moving up and down in a slight shrug. “I don't see why not.” She could just imagine him raising a curious brow. “Why? Jealous?”

“No, I—” Vale stopped short. She _what_? Hadn't expected the myths, these gods amongst men, to be... _human_? It was a ridiculous thought, one she dared not voice. Because logically she _knew_ that they were human, flesh and blood, made the way they were through science and a clever mind; there was nothing mystical or magical about them. They could bleed and die just like the rest of them, like _her_. And yet...

Buck cocked his head to the side, waiting. When she failed to respond after a full minute had passed, he opened his arms.

Vale blinked at the gesture. “What?”

“You look like you need a hug. And, to be honest with you, I could really use one too. Completely platonic and teamly of course. But, to be on the safe side, just….don't tell my girlfriend.”

Vale rolled her eyes.

~*~

Despite the combat exoskeleton that separated their skin, John was glad for the light, reassuring pressure that was Kelly's fingers twined around his. The contact, simple though it was in nature, was all that was keeping him tethered to reality in that moment.

She stood before him, silent and caring, waiting. There was little that needed to be spoken between them, and now was one of those times, when her presence was enough, when their years of service together exchanged words for them in the form of body language and touch.

The part of him that was the Master Chief was telling him to pull it together, to join Locke and Fred as they conspired to escape this planet that he had foolishly dragged them to in an attempt to right a wrong he'd never had the power to correct in the first place. Guilt—over putting his team and Locke's in jeopardy for a whim, for breaking a promise, for failing to stop _her—_ held him back. His judgment had been compromised.

The part of him that was John was just happy that Kelly, Fred, and Linda were alive.

His fingers twitched, Kelly's hold on him becoming more solid in the form of her entire hand clasping his firmly. His helmeted stare lifted, meeting hers.

That she was there, that she was alive, _real…_

He took a centering breath, concentrated on the facts.

They were stuck, without a Pelican to fly or even a Covenant ship to commandeer.

Exuberant Witness and her Constructors had disappeared inside her reclaimed installation for purposes unknown.

Ammo was of short supply.

Everyone was, miraculously, uninjured.

And Cortana was—she was—

“ _John._ ”

And there it was. His name. So much said with so little.

Kelly reached for his other hand, catching it in her unbreakable grasp. He could feel her penetrating stare behind her visor and imagined that her sharp blue eyes that saw everything, saw _him_ , would have been beautifully offset by the stone cold caps that surrounded the platform on which they stood.

When this was all over—and it _would_ be over and they _would_ survive—maybe they'd find some peace for a change. Maybe they'd visit some world not torn apart by war. And maybe—just maybe—he'd get to see all the colors the universe had to offer reflected in her eyes, bringing out the flecks of grey, the shadows of silver, the highlights of baby blue.

He felt her grip tighten, and he squeezed back in response.

_Together_.

That's what she was saying. What he was saying back.

_Together._

They would face it.

_Together._

Their lull was interrupted by a shout—“Stop it, Buck!”—by the Osiris member known as Olympia Vale, and then the Master Chief was back, purposefully striding over to where Fred and Spartan Locke stood, leaving his heart in the capable hands of Kelly-087.


End file.
